


If I Just Breathe...

by whisperingwind



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Asthma, Asthmatic Harry, Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Louis, as per usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 18:43:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6251287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperingwind/pseuds/whisperingwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has an asthma attack in the middle of an interview. Cue Louis saving the day, yet again.</p><p>Title from "Breathe" by Michelle Branch</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Just Breathe...

**Author's Note:**

> For the amazing anon who left me many, many very lovely messages. You're the reason I continue to write.xx feel free to give me a follow on twitter @terrestrialhaz (we can be super cool mutuals!)

Harry has had asthma for as long as he can remember. When he was younger, it was nearly impossible for him to play tag with his friends, let alone participate in any sports or fun activities.

Inhalers were his saving grace. 

As he’s gotten older, his ability to breathe has vastly improved. In fact, he hadn’t had one of his infamous coughing, wheezing, gasping fits in a few years by the time he was inducted into One Direction on the X-Factor. 

Of course, that accomplishment hadn’t stood for as long as he would have hoped for. During the first arena tour, Up All Night, it had come back at full force. In the middle of singing and jumping around on stage his chest had tightened and his ability to breathe had ceased to exist. His fits have always heightened quickly. 

The boys all knew of asthma, Niall especially who had dealt with a case of childhood asthma, but none of them were expecting him to have is full out attack on stage in the middle of a concert. It was slightly terrifying for everyone, considering it was his first in front of them, but it didn’t stop Louis from instantly kneeling beside him and whispering, “shh, shh, no, love. Breathe this in for me, it's going to help you” as he held the inhaler between Harry’s lips. 

Louis won’t admit it, but Harry’s needs for protection and comfort is the reason he fled to the curly headed boy as soon as he did. Even today, though his attacks aren’t frequent, Louis still worries, and sides with him when they happen, no matter the circumstances.

Harry thinks about Louis’ small hands holding his inhaler in between his lips a lot. The love, the care, the respect Louis has for him is remarkable. He finds himself thinking of it now as the tightness in his chest continues to grow. This is definitely not a good sign, but he doesn’t have much time before the interview is over and it’s with Nick. He's sure he can manage to keep himself calm for the next ten minutes and anyway it's probably this sinus infection of his acting up. 

He coughs into the crevice of his elbow and mumbles a quick apology to everyone in between coughs. It's been like this for the majority of the interview, he sincerely hopes the boys aren't cursing him out under their breaths. He can't hear much past his plugged ears. 

Of course those coughs aren't the end of it. His coughing quickly transpires into a loud fit of coughs and the back of his throat begins to ache with every forceful cough that rips through him.

Liam places his hand on his back and rubs gentle circles against the fabric of his blouse. “All right H?” He hasn’t failed to show his face concern, at all. All day he’s been asking Harry if he’s okay and if he needs anything.  _ Anything at all, just say the word and I’ll go get it for you.  _

Harry’s asthma has always been a concern, mostly for Louis, but for Liam too because he finds himself often denoting himself as the responsible one and one of his duties as the responsible member of One Direction is making sure all of his boys are in order. 

Asthma attacks aren’t frequent for Harry anymore. He’s grown out of them for the most part, still everyone tends to go on standby when he’s ill, living in fear of a potential attack. He has attacks sometimes when he’s ill, but most of the time he has them when his body is under stress. 

Promotion seasons are the worst. 

Harry nods. “Fine.” he wheezes, sounding slightly uncertain. He shouldn’t be talking at all, really, the doctor told him to save his voice, and besides, using his voice pulls tightly at his chest, making for a severely uncomfortable period to sit through an interview. 

“Is he - are you alright?” Nick finally asks, leaning forward, and places his hand on top of Harry’s knee. All teasing and jokes aside, he feels only genuine concern for his friend. They’ve been friends for years, Harry means the world to him, he doesn’t want something bad to happen to him on his account. So, he moves in close to whisper, “Do you want to sit out of this one Harry? It’s alright. I guarantee everyone will understand.”

Apparently, his whispers weren’t quiet enough. Niall speaks on Harry’s behalf. “He has a pretty nasty sinus infection. Doctor told him he ought not to be pushing himself, but you know Harry as well as we do.”

Nick weakly smiles at Harry, lips pulling into a thin line, and squeezes his knee one last time before withdrawing. “You’re a stubborn bugger, you know that don’t you? Always have to prove something to someone, Styles.” 

Harry only drops his eyes down to his lap. Yes, he knows. Louis has informed him of it twenty times, and that was only this morning. His head is pounding, actually pounding, a dull ache has spread through his temples and the area behind his eyes. 

Nick decides to move to a new topic of conversation then, for Harry’s sake. After three years of friendship, he’s well aware of Harry’s distaste for being the focal point of interviews. His reasoning being, _I'm not the only member of One Direction, Nick. It isn't fair to give me all the attention._ “So, boys, what’s the deal with this hiatus? Will you return soon?”  

Louis answers for the good of the group, explaining that it’s only a well-deserved break and they’ll be back in the music scene when the time feels right. 

Harry sighs to himself, keeping his phone in hand and his thumbs drawn, hesitating over the keyboard in case Nick directs a question at him. He isn't allowed to talk, only allowed to sing when the time comes, doctor's orders. He can finish this interview, take a puff of his inhaler, sing the tracklist, and rush home for a good night's sleep. 

They have a few questions come through the laptop set on in front of them. It’s something different and the boys always enjoy hearing from the fans, plus they’re quality questions, diverse and intricate, though Harry still doesn’t feel well enough to focus on them.

He types a response when he can squeeze one in, making sure to sound quirky rather than miserable, even though the pressure on top of his chest is weighing him down. It’s kind of difficult for him to type what he wants to say out because the boys all trample over each other to squeeze their answers in. 

He’s still trying to keep up with everyone when suddenly it begins to get harder and harder for him to breathe. He can manage small puffs of air, but trying to inhale is a whole other struggle.

He tries not to draw attention to it. After all, he can tough through this for a few more minutes and then he’ll go home later and enjoy a steamed shower and Louis will fix him a cup of tea.

Louis makes the best tea. Luke warm, milk, sugar, perfectly stirred, it's amazing. 

Not to mention, Louis will attend to him more so tonight than most nights because he knows how poorly Harry feels and Harry didn’t even have to tell him. Louis knows everything there is to know about Harry. He knows what sets him off, what makes him upset, what makes him ill, angry, happy, what turns him on, what his triggers are, what makes him ache with desire, everything there is to know, he knows. He’s taken the time to learn. 

He glances over at Louis whenever he feels it’s appropriate and each time he finds Louis staring back at him, concern driven in his eyes, and he isn’t smiling, but he tries to when the other boy's do. But it's a facade and for Harry only.

Harry appreciates that. He appreciates the concern Louis has for him, more importantly he appreciates Louis’ pure existence. He doesn’t know where he would be without him.  Though, he does know he would be far less confident and far more anxious without such a loving boy in his life. 

In the middle of his thoughts, the inability to breathe finally hits him and hard. His phone falls from his hand with a sudden fit of coughing. He raises his hand to his chest as he doubles over. 

Louis whirls his head around. He can’t help himself from checking in on Harry, especially when he hears such violent coughs and gasps coming from such a skinny body. If anyone has a real problem with it, they can cut it from the interview footage. “You alright down there Harry?”

At this point all eyes are on Harry, including Nick and the camera crew, and worry is evident in everyone’s features. Harry can’t even manage to produce an answer, nonetheless produce a fucking breath, and his chest hurts. His lungs and esophagus are contracting, fucking contracting, and it burns. 

The burning sensation is the same every time this happens, yet it never does keep it from impacting him so fiercely.  

“Here mate, I’ll grab your phone.” Liam says - as if that’s the main concern right this second. He bends down, picks it up, and goes to hand it off to Harry, but when he sits up to face Harry, he realizes something is seriously wrong.  _ I can’t breathe _ , Harry wants to say,  _ I really can’t breathe and it fucking hurts, so bad. _

Harry’s clutching at his chest. Body doubled over, his hair covers half of his his face, his face flushes to a dark red as his wheezing dominates the noise in the room. 

“Harry.” Liam calls, startled, and touches his arm. “H, come on, calm down. It's okay. Try to catch your breath.”

Harry is listening, he is, he really is, but he can’t...he can’t breathe. He’s trying to follow Liam’s instructions, but it’s impossible. His body is trembling with hyperventilation. “C-can’t…” Gasp. “Br-brea…” his voice breaks into a sputter of coughs.

The noises Louis’ hearing coming from Harry still aren’t reassuring and when he turns his head to look at Harry, he finds out why. Harry’s having an asthma attack. Louis’ off of the sofa and running to side with him in the span of a few seconds.

Harry doesn’t pay him attention. He can’t focus on much, other than his inability to breathe. The coughing has faded into loud wheezes and there’s spit everywhere, dripping out of his mouth and puddling on his lap. His head still hangs down and thank god, his hair covers the majority of his face because he must look seriously unattractive and he can’t have that potentially broadcasted to fans.  

“Cut the cameras.” Louis instructs, but no one moves quick enough for his liking. He turns quickly on his heels, facing the tech crew, and points at each of them. “Cut the fucking cameras! We’re done. Stop fucking filming.” 

Chaos ensues. Everyone scrambles to please him, shutting their cameras off and unhooking microphones as quickly as possible. He pivots himself towards Harry again. He has to move quickly, wrapping an arm around Harry to keep him from falling off the arm of the sofa. “Liam I need you to get up and help me get him on the couch. I can’t have him falling in the middle of all this.”

Liam doesn’t say a word, grabs a hold on Harry’s right side while Louis takes his left, and helps him settle on the sofa.

Niall shifts closer to him and tries to coax him into calming down. He touches him, rubs his arm, squeezes his shoulder, all in attempt to keep him calm. Harry doesn’t acknowledge him.

Nick stands up and approaches Louis.  “What’s happening? What’s going on?”

Setting aside their differences, Louis glances up and meets his eyes. “He’s having an asthma attack and I don’t know if his inhaler will be enough this time.” Harry chokes on a sob, Louis cringes. He hates that noise, almost as much as the wheezing. “Fuck. I need you to do me a favor.”

“Anything.”

“Find a medic. Our medical team is somewhere in the building. Please.” Louis touches Harry’s cheek, rubbing his thumb over his cheekbone. “Tell them he’s having an asthma attack and to bring more than his inhaler.” 

Nick disappears as soon as Louis is done ordering him about. He doesn’t bother questioning him nor does he argue against what has been asked of him.

Louis steps closer to Harry and Niall shifts away from him as soon as he approaches. “Hey, hey, shh, easy love,” Louis whispers to Harry as he sits beside him. Harry finally looks up at the sound of Louis’ sweet voice. His eyes are wide and frightened, bulging out of their sockets, and his body’s visibly heaving with every constricted breath. “It’s okay Harry,” he whispers, “‘C'mere, babes, come on it’s okay,” Louis guides him to lay his head on his shoulder. “I’ve got you. It’s okay.” He rubs his hand over his back, feeling for the rate at which Harry’s lungs are struggling. He’s hyperventilating, his hands are trembling, he’s definitely having a panic attack on top of the asthma. It’s not uncommon for him to have panic attacks when he’s like this. He can’t feel his chest rise and fall at a normal pace, he can’t get control over his breathing pattern, his body breaks out into shivers and sweats, it’s scary. 

Harry, with his forehead pressed to the side of Louis’ neck, wheezes against his collarbone. Louis’ flesh soon becomes moist with saliva. He doesn’t make an effort to move Harry, not until he falls into another coughing fit. 

The coughs are loud and wet with sputum. He has spit everywhere, he’s too weak to wipe it off his lips and chin, so Louis does it for him. He becomes too tense and frightened when attacks like this happen, once the coughs start they don’t seem to stop. “Okay, come on, love let’s sit up. Come on angel. I’ve got you.” he kisses the top of Harry’s head, then grabs hold of his shoulders. He pushes him until he’s sat up - or well, sat up and slumped against the back of the couch. He can’t hold his head up right as he hacks against his fist and it’s only when he draws back that Louis sees the saliva streaked across his knuckles. It really is everywhere. 

Harry sees the spit on his hand and his eyes grow wide with panic. This is all becoming so real. The reality is he can’t breathe and he’s choking on his own spit. His eyebrows furrow as he glances towards Louis. His chest hurts so much, he isn’t sure how much longer he can keep this fight going. Asthma is kicking his ass. “It’s okay. Here let me see.” Louis encourages and takes Harry’s fist into his hands. He wipes Harry knuckles off on his t-shirt and meets his eyes. “You’re alright. I promise. I know it’s hard for you to breathe, but you’ve got to keep trying for me love.” 

Harry’s starting to lose his coherence. Louis forces him to sit up straight, grabbing underneath his arms and pulling him upwards. “Harry, love.  _ Baby. _ It’s going to be okay. Let’s try to breathe. Breathe with me. Come on. I know you're scared, we have to keep trying sweetheart. Keep trying for me.” he places his hand on Harry’s back and that’s when he feels, much less hears the advancement of the rattling of Harry’s lungs.

“Lou -” Harry gasps, finally saying something. Louis can’t say he’s exactly pleased that it’s his name as it’s very strained, almost like a plead. He’s begging for Louis to make it better.

All of his neck and chest muscles are retracting, tight to a point of extreme discomfort. 

“Shh baby.” Louis whispers, pressing his lips to Harry’s temple. It’s hard for him to sit here and do nothing. Something needs to be done, but he can’t just leave him. The next time he takes a look at Harry, he sees the blue tint to his lips and the way his eyes are so close to closing that all he can see are the whites of his eyes, and he knows that the medics need to hurry the fuck up. “No, no, no. Harry. Harry, no, no. Don’t do this to me, don’t you do this to me. Come on,” he gently smacks his cheek, trying to get his attention. Harry opens his eyes slightly, his head rolls to limply lay against Louis’ arm. “I’m losing him Liam. Where’s the medic?”

Liam very quietly says. “Don’t panic. It's okay. They’re on their way.” 

“Don’t tell me not to panic Liam. Why are they taking their fucking time? Didn’t Nick tell them he’s having a severe asthma attack? He can’t fucking breathe! What am I supposed to do?” Louis shouts. He doesn’t mean it, certainly doesn’t mean to direct it at Liam, but he’s frustrated. Harry’s throat is going to completely close up at this rate. 

As if to answer his shouts, Nick comes stumbling in the room with two medics, and they don’t waste any precious time. The female medic drops down to her knees in front of Harry and sticks the rescue inhaler between his lips. “Try to take a deep breath when I press down Harry. Harry? Can you hear me?” she glances towards Louis once before pressing down. 

Harry’s breathing doesn’t change, not even a little bit. She presses once, twice, three times, and again, his breathing doesn’t shift at all. She turns her head to face her partner. “He’s too far in the attack. Prep his nebulizer. He’s going to lose consciousness at the rate he’s going at if we don't get him stabilized.” 

Louis tries to hold him up right, but he’s as good as dead weight at this point. His own eyes are tearing up, he’s not an overly emotional man, but seeing Harry in such a state is terrifying. “Shh, it's okay H. Stay with me, stay with me baby, only a little bit longer.” he moves his hand to Harry’s chest and gently rubs circles against his clothed skin. All of his muscles are locked, Louis’ trying to help him relax, though it isn’t working. 

“B…” Harry cries, clawing at Louis’ arm. “Babe.” his voice raises in a wheeze before another cry force it’s way out of his body.

“I know,” Louis whispers, gently continuing to rub Harry’s chest. “You’re alright. Stay with me. We’re almost there, just a few more seconds now love.” 

The female medic takes the nebulizer from her partner and quickly places it over Harry’s nose and mouth. Louis offers to take the machine from her, sitting up, so Harry doesn’t have to make an extreme effort.

The mist doesn’t provide instant relief. Harry’s chest is still tight, and considering he’s still mid panic attack it’s going to be difficult to get him to calm down. 

He can finally breathe, though. Judging by the way his eyes start to come back into focus and his lips fade back to their pinkish tint. The beds of his nails are still blue, but they’ll flush back to their peach tone in some time. 

“You’re okay H.” Louis whispers, trying to ignore the wheezes coming from underneath the mask. Harry’s looking at him with wide eyes, one of his hands sprawl across his chest, knocking the one hand Louis has on his chest away. He doesn't want to be touched.

The asthma attack is settling, but his panic is still at a high alert. He never likes to be touched during his panic attacks, which are more frequent than some people might assume. “Okay, okay,” Louis whispers, drawing back from him without an argument. “You're okay. Let me know when I can touch you, baby. Do you want me to hold the mask for you too?” 

Harry nods, hand slipping off the clear nebulizer, and Louis immediately shifts to hold the breathing mask over his face. “Are you going to take him to the hospital?” he asks, pinpointing his attention to the female medic. 

“After he finishes the breathing treatment, we’ll take his peak flow, and if it’s too low, then we’ll transport him over there.” she answers, jotting down some information on a clipboard.  

Louis doesn't say anything. He keeps a loose grip on Harry’s mask, watching him closely, and as soon as the tension floods from Harry’s features, he knows he can finally breathe. His airways aren’t swelling any longer, he’ll be okay. 

The treatment finishes a few moments later. Louis’ instructed to pull the nebulizer away from him and he hands the machine back to the medics. “How are we feeling babes? Can I touch you now?” he dares to ask, hands shaking with anticipation. 

Harry whispers,  “Please.” His voice is deeper, raspier, due to the stress on his esophagus. Once he gets some rest, it won’t be as uncomfortable to talk. 

Louis doesn’t speak, he lets his hands do all the talking. As he runs his fingers through Harry’s hair another tool is stuck between his lips. This one is called a peak flow meter, a small device used to measure his ability to exhale. 

“It’s a bit low, but I don’t think it calls for a hospital visit.” the female medic says, pausing to add, “I suggest he takes another treatment tonight considering the severity of the attack.” 

“We can definitely manage that.” Louis replies, tucking a loose curl behind Harry’s ear. The medic team leaves after they feel everyone is well situated, leaving Louis and Harry, the boys, and Nick in the room until silence dominates the room. Then, Louis and Harry are the only ones who stay. “Are you sure you’re feeling better?” 

Sitting up as Louis questions him, Harry says, “Yeah. Haven’t had an attack like that in so long.” he coughs against his fist, grimacing when he feels the flash of pain shoot up his throat. “Can we...I’d like to go home.” 

“Me too.” Louis answers, standing up, and offers his hand to Harry. Both of them are stood up when Louis engulfs Harry in a hug before pulling away and holding Harry away at arm's length. “I hate seeing you like that, you know, it’s so scary. I don’t like to think about the what if’s, but it’s so hard to avoid it and - never mind whatever. I’m just glad it’s over, hopefully you don’t have another like that for awhile. I love you so much and I don’t know what I would do if...you know, if I didn’t get to you quick enough or something.” 

“I love you too. Please don’t worry about it.” Harry says, reaching to graze Louis’ cheek with the back of his hand. “I’m okay aren’t I? We’ll worry about it when and _if_ the time comes.”  

Louis scoffs, “You know I worry.” 

"Yes, a lot. You worry a lot." Harry nods in agreement. He doesn’t have to say anything else about the matter because it's completely and utterly true. “Come on silly. Let’s go home.” he whispers. 

When they arrive home and Louis helps Harry set up his second breathing treatment later that night, he can't help but watch him with large, doe eyes. Everything Harry does is endearing, even if he does have a mask strapped to his face. He's just such a beautiful and remarkable soul. 

Harry feels eyes on him. He glances towards Louis, raising an eyebrow, and once he sees the loving look sprawled across Louis' face, he lovingly shakes his head, scoffing underneath the mask.

And that's when he realizes, yet again, he's never loved anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Long time no see. It's been a little while, but we're back at it again with posting some fan fic. I know this is a short one shot, but it's only to fill in the space as I work on RUYFYLB and another individual one shot. Thank you guys for staying with me and keeping on top of reminding me to update! Also thank you for continuing to read, comment, give kudos, bookmark, and rec my stories. I love you. If you have any requests or you just want to give me reminders on tumblr here it is: troubleistheonlywaydown.tumblr.com Enjoy the rest of your day/night! Huge love - E.x


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